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Spaghetti
Inhaling deeply, a young woman basks in the delicious smell of her concoction before her. In front of her is a wondrous kitchen pot sitting on a beautiful electric stove surrounded by a round marble counter. If the stove were considered the starting point of a circle, the sink would be on the pi end. Stirring the contents in the large cylinder, her homemade spaghetti brews and bubbles aromas into her face. Her secret spaghetti and sauce recipe is far from the average type of marinara sauce, meatballs, and choice of pasta noodles. As she grabs her exquisitely, hand-carved chopsticks to pick up some of her "noodles," she raises them up into the shining light from the window behind her. The large intestines glisten beautifully with the sauce of tomato, basil, blood, bone marrow, semen, and other nutritious human fluids. Hmmmmm, why do I feel like something is missing? she warily thinks to herself. She puts the heat down to a simmer, as she carefully removes her kitchen apron so she can change into her "meat" apron, along with her trusty wooden sheathed katana as it lays gently on her back. Sigh. Turning on the faucet to wash her hands, she slowly runs them through the running water as the drain pulls in traces of spices and blood. Flicking her hands of excess water, she dries the rest off on a neighboring towel on the counter before proceeding to the adjoining room to go check up on her ingredients. As she enters through the open door to the other room, her black heels click and clack over the polished wooden floors breaking an ataractic air of- "Mmmmmmffffff!" a young, five-foot-tall Caucasian boy tries to cry out through the dirty, muddy sock lodged into his mouth as he sits uncomfortably on his arse. His long-sleeved, light blue shirt is tattered while his overlaid white t-shirt is tainted with specks of blood. The edges of his khakis look so worn out because of the dried mud from the messy trail he was running in. I love it when they think they can get away. ''Sigh. It’s adorable.'' She ignores his muffled cries as she walks over to him in his little corner, still keeping an eye on him with her wide peripheral vision as she focuses at her wall. In front of her, there is a small collection of her favorite sharp toys for playing with children like him. Her face lightens up at the sight of Ping and Pong as she excitedly snatches a pair of twining daggers and begins to sharpen them with one another. As her hands keep busy, she slowly turns towards the young boy with an eerily indecipherable, calm look on her face. Lowering her eyes down at him, she sees that he has also been busy with his hands, with what little space he has with that tight rope knot. His adorable bright cyan eyes widen in fear as she ever so slowly tilts her head to the right, a clownish grin slowly curving over her face. It’s just so droll to see their reactions. It looks like he’s been trying to cut through with a stray broken piece from a scythe. At first, she doesn’t process this immediately as she smiles wistfully at the happy, gruesome memories she has with her old sickle. It was so much fun, slicing it cleanly through necks and shoulders. It was always fun to watch their butts jiggle when it came to cutting off the thighs. Of course, it didn’t work very well when she thought she could sharpen it at a different angle; she didn’t think it would break like that. That Cheshire grin of hers immediately disappears into a heavy frown as she snaps back to the present to see that the broken piece is in his hand. Within a few seconds in one swift move, a beautiful splatter of blood goes in a tangent graph direction from his lower right abdomen to his left shoulder. “Ahh... ahhhhh... AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” he lets out a macabre scream as he squirms about and drops the broken piece from his bloody hands. She is careful for it to be about an inch deep gash just so she can relish the screams. It’s so much fun to watch his pain. His contorted face. The arching in his back as if his body can somehow repel the pain just by jutting it out. The handle of her katana is firm, despite the blood on it, as she slices through him again, mirroring the design on his shirt. From the arousal she’s getting from this, she figures the spaghetti can wait a little longer. This is going to be fun. ---- A young girl is walking down a lonesome trail not too far from home. She is happily skipping along as her black messy hair bounces about as she explores this new trail. She looks like she's been crawling through dirty tunnels that have tousled and played at the rough ends of her hair. As she looks around her path and surroundings, her sneakers sing in gravelly tones as they crunch against the rough sand gravel of the trail, until she sees a strange sight. Several feet ahead of her, a little brown haired boy is wearing a light blue shirt that looked to be twice his own size. As his small body is crouching over an ice bucket sized rock, the rough torn edges of his black Nike shorts are seen clearly, as they are caked with traces of dried mud and grass. He looks like he is about seven or eight years old. Once she slows her pace, she notices that he’s been crying, with the trails of dried and fresh tears strewn all over his cheeks and neck. Sensing another presence, the boy raises his head and looks up at her pitifully as he scrunches up his face and whimpers out softly: “Mommy’s gone. I got lost and I don’t have my mommyyyyy.” His adorable baby face continues sniveling; his soft cries filling the air around them. Oh no! That’s so sad, she thought to herself. But, he’s cute when he cries. “Where did she go? Do you know?” she asked softly, thinking that talking loudly might scare him. “W-well, we were walking around s-staring at the pretty flowers and birdies,” his voice wavers as he sniffs again. “When we were playing I Spy, I spied a bird’s little straw home on a tree branch. It was right over the creek.” “Oh really?!” she asked, curiously intrigued. “Were there eggs or baby birds?” “Mommy likes to climb things, so she climbed up like a monkey to take a closer look. It was a really high branch.” He then lowers his voice as he shamefully says, “I thought I could help by throwing a heavy rock at the branch, but it hit mommy in the head and she fell.” Oh wow, he sure can’t aim, that’s for sure, she thinks condescendingly. “Why did you throw a rock?” she asks curiously. “I don’t remember. All I know is that she’s bleeding in the creek, and she’s not moving,” says the boy, with a forlorn expression and new tears sneaking out the edges of his tiny hazel eyes. Aw, I wouldn’t want to remember my mommy like that either, thinks the girl. She slowly approaches him and wraps her arms around him, hoping that this might comfort the boy. The boy is still in a melancholy state, so his feeble attempts at a small clench at the back of her shirt are enough to show that he appreciates the gesture. “Well, I don’t know what else to say. I’m used to other people dying, not my own family,” the girl lets go of him and stands up. She pauses briefly then her face lights up as a new idea comes to her. "I know! You can be part of my family. I’ve always wanted a brother!” “What? Really? You can do that?” the boy’s face looks surprised, but now with a hint of hope. “I won’t have to be alone?” “Sure! My mommy told me that if another kid like me lost their mommy to death, we could adopt them into our family!” the girl exclaims in delight, despite the mention of death. “Oh really? I didn’t know that.” The boy looks sheepishly more hopeful at a new life. “See? Everything is going to be okay,” she says in a soothing calm voice. “All I have to do is take you home with me, and we’ll tell my mommy what happened.” “But... what about my mommy? Her body…” the boy can't forget his mommy’s body lying in a bloody red river. “It’s okay. I know what we can do. I could take you home to my mommy, and she could help. I know she can.” She smiles happily at him as she continues, “Mommy and I sometimes find lonely people out here, so we take them in so they won’t have to be lonely anymore. But you’re much more than that, you’re gonna be part of our family.” The boy’s chest rises with his renewed spirit and then his stomach lets out a low grumble. His face flushes with embarrassment. “Will…” he hesitantly asks. “Will there be cookies?” “You betcha!” she happily confirms as a wide grin spreads across her face. ---- In the middle of the room lies what’s left of the teenager on a bed-sized table, with all his limbs completely cut off. His head still intact with his torso, face frozen in shock, pain, and terror. His torso is now a piece of meat ready for hanging on a hook for a beating. She definitely made sure he'd suffered as long as possible. Unfortunately, he eventually died from excessive blood loss after his last arm was chopped off. Oh well, time to take out the gloves so she can carefully remove his skin. She abruptly pauses, thinking she hears a noise from the outside - footsteps. She freezes as she then hears a sound from outside the kitchen door that leads to the open backyard they have outside the cabin. Carefully wiping her hands of blood onto her apron, she swiftly changes into her kitchen apron as she walks back out to the kitchen. She gets there in time to see her adorable little eight-year-old daughter skipping happily into the comforts of her home... with a friend. Oblivious to the small stain of blood still left near the door, both of them are giddy with glee, the boy avid to be part of a new family. The mother kneels before her daughter and this new young fresh meat as she smiles. “Hi! How’s my sweet little Jenny?” she squeals, trying to hold back her excitement. Fresh meat! Ohhh, it’s definitely going to be a bloody hell tonight, especially for the Blood Moon! “Hi, Mommy! I went out exploring and found this boy who was wandering around the trails,” says little Jenny with her short black hair messed up with twigs and branches. “H-hi, my name is Lucius,” he shyly introduces himself. He nervously fiddles with his hands as he fumbles his words, trying to get it out. “My mom… she... fell…” “His mom is dead and now he has nowhere to go,” blurts out Jenny. She immediately has an apologetic look on her face. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t hold it in. It’s just... being able to kill at such a young age.” She turns to face him, “You should be proud, not a lot of us can do that you know.” “We’re both still kids,” Lucius bashfully says. “But... I didn’t mean to. She wasn’t supposed to die like that.” He hangs his head down. “I wanted my first kill to be special.” A sob rises out from inside his chest. At this, the mother tilts her head curiously as she slowly starts to see some potential in young Lucius. “I know you didn’t mean for her to be your first... and no one usually kills their own family either,” Jenny thinks she is sympathizing but her mother’s glare says otherwise. “Oh sweetie… come here.” The mother opens her arms wide to welcome this new, young, demonic being into a tight squeeze. “Oh! I have an idea, why don’t you join us for our tonight’s Blood Moon celebration? We’re having spaghetti.” “Oh... really? That sounds pretty fun,” Lucius replies unhesitatingly. “But... what about my mommy? She’s still out there... in the river.” The mental image of his mother’s lifeless body is still vivid in his mind, but instead of scrunching his face, a blank morose expression is painted on his face. The mother gently ruffles Lucius’s hair as she lets him give his honorable silence to his mother. “... We could go get her body and bury her for you, if that would give you any closure,” the mother offers sweetly. She knows that she could simply give a fake burial for the mother and use the organs, if the death was still fresh that is. “What’s closure?” Lucius asks. “It’s when you say your final goodbyes to the departed, and in this case, your mother.” “Oh... yeah, that’d be nice,” Lucius smiles sadly. “So... I get to tell her that I’m sorry?” “Yep!” Jenny finally pitches in. “If you want, you can even promise her that your next kill won’t be so sloppy!” Smack! Her mother slaps her to shut her up for her insensitive words. “You weren’t this….” Lucius hesitates as he can’t find the right word. “You were nicer to me earlier. Why are you being so mean?” He is clearly unnerved by the rude things that Jenny is spouting. “Well, I didn’t know you. But since you’re gonna be my brother, it should be okay!” Jenny beams at her own childish logic. “Don’t mind her, I’ll be sure to punish her later for her language,” the mother reassures Lucius. “Now, why don’t you show us the way to your mother?” Category:Mental Illness Category:Dismemberment Category:Places